


The Dangerous Part of Us

by coldflashwavebaby



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe-Slasher Film, Barry is the final girl, Cop Leonard Snart, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Multi, Murder, Obsession, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-06-30 07:32:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19848478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldflashwavebaby/pseuds/coldflashwavebaby
Summary: The man in yellow’s eyes flickered between the cop and Barry, and for a second, Barry thought it was about to end. The man would charge, the cop would shoot, and he’d never have to look into the killer’s eyes again.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I want to see how people like this. It's just an idea I had.

He was running, faster than he’d ever run before. Someone was chasing him..were they? He was too scared to check. His side ached, his stomach burning and throbbing from the stab wound soaking his shirt with blood.

He needed to find help. There was no way Patty made it--her head was sitting at the bottom of the porch steps, a yard away from the rest of her. Julian might have made it--he’d taken some hits, but maybe he just passed out from blood loss? Ronnie was hanging from the tree outside the lake house. He’d heard Eddie scream but was too scared to go after him. And Roy...as much as he hated it, Roy was gone, giving his life so Barry could get away.

Was the man after him? He felt like he could smell the blood following him, that he could still feel his hot breath on his neck from when he held the knife to his throat. 

A light ahead drew his attention. There was a road ahead with a car driving down it. He put every bit of energy he had left in his run. He couldn’t let the man catch him--not when he was so close to getting help. 

“Stop!” he screamed at the car. “Help!” 

The car showed no sign of stopping, so he did all he could--he jumped in front of it. To be honest, the impact of the car was nothing compared to the burning in his legs, the wound in his stomach, the pain of losing his friends. His body rolled up the hood, then back to the hard asphalt. 

It had to be the adrenaline that made him drag himself to his feet. The man in the car was staring wide-eyed at him. He could only imagine how he appeared--crazed, covered in blood, cut and sliced from both the attack and his run through the woods. 

He didn’t care. Someone was trying to kill him. 

“Help!” he screeched, slamming his hands on the car. It seemed to jerk the man out of his daze, because the next thing he knew, the man was out of the car and at his side, a gun in his hands. 

Barry flinched away, but the man held a hand up. “It’s okay. I’m a cop. It’s okay. What’s going on?” 

Where could he start? With the summer party? With the strange motorist coming to the lake house to use a phone? When they noticed that Ronnie was missing? Before he could even sort his thoughts, there was a rustling in the trees behind the cop. The motorist in the yellow jacket stepped out of the trees, knife still in hand. 

Barry screamed. The cop turned, gun raised, to the motorist. “Freeze!” he ordered. “On the ground, now!” 

The man in yellow’s eyes flickered between the cop and Barry, and for a second, Barry thought it was about to end. The man would charge, the cop would shoot, and he’d never have to look into the killer’s eyes again. 

Then, a smile stretched across the man in yellow’s lips. He dropped the knife and held his hands up, his eyes locked on Barry as he knelt on the ground. Barry’s skin crawled as the cop drew his handcuffs and moved around the man, locking his hands behind his back. 

The adrenaline left his body. His vision began to blackout, and he collapsed into a pair of warm arms. 

“Kid?” he could hear the cop yelling. “Kid?!”

Two days later, he woke up in the hospital. His stomach was stitched up, his arm was hooked to an IV, and someone was holding his hand. He glanced over. The cop was sitting in a chair next to him, using his arms as a pillow as he slept at Barry’s side. 

Later, he’d find out that Officer Leonard Snart hadn’t left him since he’d arrested the motorist--Eobard Thawne. Joe and Iris had been in, told him that Barry would be fine, but Leonard stayed until the day he was discharged from the hospital. 

Even after, he became a part of Barry’s life, joining family dinners at the West house and even attending Barry’s college graduation. He gave him a recommendation at the CCPD (which he didn’t need because of Joe, but it didn’t hurt). He helped get him therapy when he started having nightmares. Most importantly, he sat with Barry in the courtroom during Eobard Thawne’s trial, when that obsessive glare continued to linger. 

Deep down, Barry suspected it was because of the undeniable truth neither of them wanted to admit--Barry’s troubles weren’t over. Not by a long shot. 


	2. Chapter One

**Two Years Later...**

Barry’s hands tightened on the steering wheel of Joe’s car. He was practically shaking out of his skin. It wasn’t his first date since the lake house, but it never got easier. Meeting new people was hard, and then, when they asked him about his life, he either had to lie or be seen as the survivor of the Lake Morse Massacre. 

Cisco set up this date. Some guy who worked with him that he always complained about, but also said wasn’t that bad once you ‘peeled back the layers’, whatever that meant. 

He blew out a breath. He hadn’t told Len about the date. He knew what would’ve happened--background checks, stakeouts, eventual threats that made sure Barry never got a second date. 

Not this time, though. He gave himself another once over in his rearview mirror and finally climbed out of the car. Central City was a small town. There were six streets that cut through the main area of town, and outside of that was all residential. There was one movie theater, with only two viewing rooms inside--one for newer movies, and one for the throwback classics. 

Looking both ways, he crossed the street towards the flashing marquee. One side had the latest blockbuster, the other side read _Carnival of Souls._

With Halloween a few weeks away, the movie theater was showing a different horror film every night. He remembered when he was a kid, his mother would bring him to the theater around Halloween for some classic horror, even though his dad insisted it would give him nightmares. Even after the incident two years ago, he refused to let the good memories of horror movies be soured by someone like Eobard Thawne. 

He wouldn’t let him take anything else away from him. 

A hand fell on his shoulder, and panic shot through him. He quickly shoved it back down. Forcing himself to relax, Barry turned and smiled. The man behind him was about his height with short, dark hair, glasses, and an amused smirk. 

“Barry West?” 

Barry smiled and nodded. He’d taken Joe and Iris’s name not long after the massacre in an attempt to get away from the whole thing. Press couldn’t track him down, and people didn’t automatically associate him with the Lake Morse Massacre. 

“Yeah, you must be…?” He blanked on the name, but the man waved it off.

“Hartley.”

“Right!” Hartley Rathaway, the disowned son of the Rathaway family. Cisco thought he’d understand the whole ‘don’t want to talk about the past’ thing. “Sorry. I know Cisco told me your name, but I just blanked.”

“It’s cool.” Hartley gave him a charming smile. “So... _Carnival of Souls?_ Are you one of those horror movie buffs?” 

Barry shrugged, and they approached the ticket booth. “Kind of. When I was a kid, my mom and I would come here all the time and see the old black-and-white horror classics. Carnival was my favorite.” 

“Do you still come here together?”

His good mood deflated a little. “No. She and my dad died when I was eleven.” 

Hartley’s smile fell. “That...was a dick thing to ask, I’m sorry…” 

“It’s fine,” Barry said quickly. “You didn’t know. I don’t talk about them much. I was taken in by the West family afterward.”

Hartley’s smile returned. “That was nice of them.” The ticket booth attendant called them up, and Hartley bought them each a ticket. Hartley reached down nervously, taking Barry’s hand in his. Barry laughed quietly and squeezed his hand, a sense of comfort washing over the whole date. Even if the night didn’t end the way he hoped, he felt this was someone he could befriend. 

They walked into the theater together, bought some popcorn and sodas, and hurried into the viewing room. Barry dragged Hartley to the best seats in the theater--best acoustics without compromising their view of the screen. 

“Smart,” Hartley commented. “You have this figured out. How often do you come here?”

“All the time,” he answered honestly, stealing some popcorn. “It’s a great escape from everything.”

Hartley smiled, like he understood exactly what Barry meant, but didn’t respond. The lights dimmed, and Barry leaned back in his seat, ready for the show. When Mary Henry’s car went off the bridge, he felt fingers slip through his again. He glanced over at his date, who was focused on the movie, though there was a small smile on his lips. 

Barry let himself be pulled into the story of the movie, his stomach warming at the normalcy of it all. 

About a quarter of the way through the movie, Hartley leaned over. “I need a drink refill. I’ll be right back.”

Barry gave him a nod and so quick that Barry wasn’t sure it happened until it was over, Hartley kissed him on the cheek. He could feel his cheeks heating up, and he bit his lip. Hartley snuck out, cup in hand. 

Barry turned his attention back to the screen. It wasn’t until the ghouls on the beach began closing in around Mary that he realized Hartley was still gone. He shifted in his seat. 

Once the movie finally ended, he hurried into the lobby. He checked the bathroom, asked the concession people, and even checked with the ushers, but everyone said the same thing--a young man matching Hartley’s description walked out the door and never came back in. 

Had he known somehow about Barry’s past? He’d seemed fine before, but maybe he just wanted to see Barry the Freak, sole survivor of the Lake Morse Massacre. He thought back to his last date, Linda Park, who thought their date was great right up until the anniversary newscast of the incident appeared on the TV behind the bar with a huge photo of him. She never called him back. Hartley seemed different, though. 

Barry sighed and walked back to his car. At least he got to watch his favorite movie. 

###

When he pulled up outside Joe’s house, he groaned. A familiar black car was parked in the driveway. Great. Now he was in for it. 

Barry pulled up beside Len’s car and climbed out. The lights in the living room and kitchen were still on, meaning that Len had probably come by for dinner. Barry was regretting not telling him he was going out for the night. 

Preparing himself for the music, he strode up the stairs and into the house. 

Joe, Iris, Wally, and Len were all sitting at the dinner table around a pizza when he walked in. Iris was laughing at something that Wally was saying. Joe was shaking his head. Len was sitting there stoically, watching the West family with interest. 

Barry understood. Len had never had a family like the Wests. His mother got sick when he was a kid, and his abusive father had her locked up in a mental hospital rather than helping her. He shacked up with another woman, who had a child named Lisa not long after. She tried to raise Len as her own, and gave both children as much love as she could, but eventually, the beatings from Len’s dad became too much for her. She died when Len was ten years old, in a crash off the Macclenny Bridge. 

His dad was dead now, but Len internalized all that pain and uselessness he’d felt his whole life. At least he turned it into something productive--saving others. 

Barry closed the door with a click, drawing the attention of his family. He’d expected a near-judgemental eyebrow raise from Len, but instead, he smiled blankly. Iris and Wally both smiled a little too brightly, but Joe’s face revealed the most. He was watching Barry the same way he had when he first laid eyes on Barry the day his parents died. 

Something was wrong. 

He didn’t say anything, though. Instead, he headed for the table and took the seat at the end. He tried not to look as disheartened as he felt. 

“How was your date, Bare?” Iris asked, her voice sickly sweet. Oh yeah--something was up. 

“Good, at first,” he said. “Then he left to get a refill and never came back.”

Her smile fell. “Oh god, I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It’s not the first time. At least I got to watch my movie.” 

“Still sucks,” Wally spoke up. “Maybe me and Iris could go with you to the next movie. I know you like those old movies. Maybe we can even rent some on Halloween and have a marathon?”

Iris nodded. “Yeah! We could invite Cisco and Caitlin and make a party out of it.” 

Len and Joe both stayed uncomfortably quiet during their discussion, but Barry could feel their eyes on him. Barry quickly nabbed a slice of pizza, desperate for something to ease his anxiety. God, he wished they would just say what they needed to and get it over with. 

The conversation turned from the movie to other topics--Len’s promotion to sergeant, Joe’s plans to propose to the DA he was dating, Wally’s college plans. 

“Yeah, Starling University is amazing,” he said. “And every year, they have this big trip where everyone goes camping in Lampert Park for a week.”

Barry’s blood went cold. He hadn’t been to Lampert Park since the Incident. All he could think about was how dark the woods were, how much blood there’d been, the screams that had echoed through the trees.

“Barry? Barry!” A hand grabbed his, squeezing it reassuringly. He let it ground him and bring him back. Len was staring at him, pulling him back like he always did. 

Wally flinched guiltily. “Sorry, man. I forgot for a second there.”

Barry waved him off. “It’s okay. I can’t freak out every time someone mentions something about what happened.”

Sympathetic looks fell over everyone’s faces, and all Barry wanted to do was leave. He _hated_ those looks. He plastered on a fake smile. 

“Really. I’m fine.” He forced himself to his feet and started grabbing plates. “I’m doing dishes tonight since I skipped out on dinner.” He practically ran into the kitchen, ignoring the eyes he felt on him. 

He piled the dishes into the sink and started filling it with water. As it filled, he dropped his head on the counter, forcing himself to take deep breaths. 

Dr. Finkel’s voice echoed in his head. _Those memories are the past. They don’t exist here anymore. Remember your rhyme._

“ _Oh it's such a lot of things there are and such a lot to be_ ,” he recited under his breath, “ _that there's always lots of cherries on my little cherry tree._ ”

His hands stopped trembling. He blew out a slow breath.

“You okay?” 

If the voice hadn’t been so familiar, so reassuring, he would’ve jumped. Instead, he raised his head slowly and smiled at Len. “Yeah. I didn’t mean to freak out…”

“Barry.” Len shook his head and stepped into the kitchen. “Don’t apologize. It’s barely been two years. It’s going to take a lot longer for you to get over it if you ever do. There’s no deadline for recovery.” 

He walked over to the sink and turned the water off. Barry hadn’t even noticed that it was full. “You wash, I dry.” 

Len left no room for argument, so Barry grabbed the first plate and started to scrub. 

“You know, I never asked you about your rhyme.”

Barry raised an eyebrow. “My rhyme for panic attacks? What about it?”

Len shrugged. “I’ve just never heard it before. I wondered where you got it. I had a friend a long time ago who had pyromania, and when he felt an episode coming on, he’d start naming characters from _Fiddler on the Roof_.”

Barry laughed, but even he could hear the tightness in his voice. “It’s from a nursery rhyme I read when I was a kid: _Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief. Or what about a cowboy, policeman, jailer, engine driver, or a pirate chief? Or what about a ploughman or a keeper at the zoo? Or what about a circus man who lets the people through? Or the man who takes the pennies on the roundabouts and swings? Or the man who plays the organ or the other man who sings? Or what about the rabbit man with rabbits in his pockets, and what about a rocket man who's always making rockets? Oh it's such a lot of things there are and such a lot to be, that there's always lots of cherries on my little cherry tree._ ” 

Len nodded, taking the plate from Barry’s hand and drying it with a towel. “I half expected one of those morbid nursery rhymes. That’s an unusually optimistic one.”

Barry shrugged, grabbing another plate. It had to be Iris’ because there was parmesan and marinara sauce all over it. He scrubbed at the dried sauce vigorously. A grimness fell over the room and that feeling that there was more to this visit than appeared settled back inside him. 

A bit of the sauce chipped away. 

“Eobard Thawne filed for an appeal.” 

The plate slipped out of his hands and crashed into the sink. “Shit!” Barry cursed--the plate didn’t break, but there was a small chip in the corner now. He reached for it again, but Len grabbed his wrist.

“Barry...did you hear me? Thawne’s filing for an appeal.” 

“I heard.” His tone was snappier than he’d intended, but he couldn’t think about Thawne. He didn’t want to. He just wanted to leave it all behind. “So, he files, they deny him because he fucking _confessed_ , and they move on, right?” 

Len sighed. “Not exactly. His lawyers are claiming that his confession was coerced and that he didn’t kill anybody.”

“But I saw him!” Barry snatched his hand out of Len’s grip and stepped back. “I was there--he stabbed me! He killed all my friends--Patty, Ronnie, Julian, Roy, Eddie--what are they claiming happened?” 

To his credit, Len looked as sick as Barry felt. “He says that you were the only person alive when he got to the cabin. That he assumed you were the killer, which is why he attacked you.”

Barry scoffed. He could feel tears welling in his eyes. “That’s insane! Don’t they need evidence?”

Len leaned back against the counter and threw his head up so he was staring at the ceiling. “They have it, apparently. A judge allowed it to go to trial. They need us both to come in and testify again.”

He thought he was going to scream, throw something, laugh maniacally-- _something_. But Barry found himself just nodding along. “Okay. Okay. When? How long do they need me there? What’s the new evidence?” 

“I don’t know.” Len ran a hand down his face and huffed. “I’m being accused of forcing Thawne to confess to the murders--no one’s telling me anything. The trial’s next week, though. It’s being pushed through by Judge Stagg, who’s an old friend of the Thawne family.”

“Shit.” Barry swore off alcohol after the Incident--their drunkenness was part of why it was so easy for Thawne to knock them off one by one--but he wanted nothing more than to dig into Joe’s ‘special cabinet’ above the sink and drown out the headache he was getting. 

“I wanted to warn you--it’s going to be a media circus. The Lake Morse Massacre was the biggest news story the town’s ever had, not to mention the out of town news station. It’s all going to be dragged back up again, but Joe and I are going to make sure that there are police at the house to keep the leeches away.”

Barry shook his head. “No. I can’t go through that again. I’ll stay with Cisco, or Caitlin, or someone, but I don’t want to be a prisoner here again. It was six months before everything died down last time and I was able to leave the house. I can’t do that again.”

Len groaned, but Barry wasn’t backing down. That was the line he wasn’t going to cross this time. Finally, he nodded. “Fine. I have a sister named Lisa who lives on the edge of town. No one would suspect you were there, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind it if you stay there for a few weeks. Agreed?”

Barry thought about it. He didn’t know Lisa Snart, but if she was anything like her brother, she was good people. Biting his lip, he nodded. “Okay. But only until this all dies down. I just want to be normal.”

Len walked over and gently grabbed Barry’s arms. “I know. You don’t need this. You don’t deserve it, after all you’ve been through.”

Barry huffed a breath and stepped in closer, letting his head drop onto Len’s shoulder. It hadn’t even started yet, and already he could feel eyes on him like there was someone was watching him through the kitchen window.


End file.
